“Thank you, Jordan,” Dorian said, “for yourutteruselessness. I’m afraid this is where we part ways, by which I mean we’ll now be parting your essence from your vessel.”
“What? But I told you everything I know! I cooperated! Let me go!”
“Let you go?” Dorian laughed. “Whateverwould I do for lunch? Torture leaves me quite famished, I’m afraid.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Should we tell him, brother?” Dorian asked Gabriel, unable to deny the urge to further taunt the bastard.
“Give him the multiple choice answers,” Gabriel said. “I love making them guess.”
“Oh, very well.” Dorian let out a put-upon sigh. “Why am I doing this, Jordan? Is it… A—because I’m the vampire king, B—because I’m hungry, C—because Ican, or D—all of the above?”
“What? I don’t—”
“Tick-tock, Jordy. Best guess.” Dorian flashed a benevolent smile, and without awaiting Jordan’s final answer, sank his fangs into the demon’s neck.
The bastard fought hard for a moment, but Dorian trulywasB—hungry, and in the span of thirty seconds, he drained his prey dry.
Just before the heartbeat finally stalled out, Dorian tore the body from its chains and launched it into the wall, unlocking its soul from the temporary prison of the devil’s trap.
Thanks to Isabelle’s handiwork, before the body even hit the floor, the demonic essence evaporated, exorcised to oblivion in a swirl of smoke.
The corpse turned as black as tar.
With a mouth full of blood and a vicious grin, Dorian looked to Gabriel and said, “Well don’t just stand there, brother. Bring in contestant number two.”
Chapter Five
Five vanquished demons and an ocean of rancid blood later, Dorian and Gabriel were no closer to finding Sasha, uncovering Rogozin’s grand scheme, sussing out Rudy’s angle, or learning a damn thing about Charlotte’s mark than they were when they’d begun this dreadful day.
But one thing was certain.
Among the warring demonic factions of New York City,someoneneeded to get his story straight.
Wiping the last of the foul-tasting demon blood from his mouth, Dorian said, “Chernikov suggested at our meeting—quite convincingly—that Rogozin had been working with dark witches to open the demonic portals and flood the city with demons. But ifthesepricks are to be believed, Rogozin’s got an entirely different modus operandi, and Chernikov is the one building up his armies.”
“That’s the thing,” Gabriel said. “Ididbelieve them.”
“As did I.”
“Maybe they’re just not privy to the boss’ master plan.”
Dorian shook his head. “You don’t plan an operation of that magnitude and leave out your key enforcers. Something isn’t adding up.”
“You think Chernikov’s bullshitting you, then?”
“Oh, he’s absolutely bullshitting me. The question is… what about? And to what end?” Dorian toed one of the blackened corpses at his feet. “The only thing I’m certain of is that he desperately wants the Mother of Lost Souls. As long as he believes I can procure it for him, he’ll string me along by the balls for an eternity. How can I trust a word from his greasy mouth?”
“So what’s our next move? There’s another Rogozin stronghold a few blocks down—a butcher. That could be… fun.”
“I’m not sure it would net us anything new.” Dorian sighed, the stress of the last twenty-four hours finally catching up. He missed Charlotte. After all the bloodshed, all the burning flesh, all he wanted to do was go home to her, crawl into bed beside her, and let the warmth of her body and the sweetness of her scent take him someplace infinitely better.
But he couldn’t. Not yet.
“We need to clean this up,” he said, glancing around the bloodied garage. “Burn it, spread a rumor it was Chernikov demons. Better to let them fight it out amongst themselves.”
Gabriel nodded. “We need to cleanusup too. Bloody hell, these creatures aredisgusting.”
